


Sherlock is A Sick Boi

by AnotherSmolFangirl (ThatOneSmolFangirl)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Case, Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Fluff, Hypothermia, M/M, Pretty cute?, Sherlock Holmes Has a Heart, Sherlock Holmes is Bad at Feelings, john is worried
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-07
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-23 13:26:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,166
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15607248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatOneSmolFangirl/pseuds/AnotherSmolFangirl
Summary: Sherlock came up beside John, who was obviously not in the mood to chat, “What do you want Sherlock?” Sherlock responded quickly, “I was simply going to suggest you wear my coat,” John stopped in place, turning around, “What?”





	Sherlock is A Sick Boi

John and Sherlock were walking home together after finishing a rather weird case. It had resulted in them both being absolutely soaked with water. Which meant they were already pretty cold. Add that to the fact they were walking in the middle of winter, when it was freezing, and in the dead of night. Simply put, they were rather chilly. Obviously, no taxi would take them anywhere, and they had mutually agreed not to try the tram, no wanting to start any arguments with the public. The flat wasn’t ridiculously far, so they had decided they might as well walk. After a while, Sherlock started to notice John shivering rather violently. John had lost his sweater somewhere along the way, leaving him defenseless in terms of the weather. It was obviously making him rather grumpy, because when Sherlock turned to him to ask, “You seem to be cold John,” his response was a rather loud declaration of, “Of course I’m cold Sherlock, it’s bloody freezing!” After that, Sherlock fell a couple steps behind, as John continued to stride ahead.

About a minute later, Sherlock came up beside John, who was obviously not in the mood to chat, “What do you want Sherlock?” Sherlock responded quickly, “I was simply going to suggest you wear my coat,” John stopped in place, turning around, “What?” Sherlock held out his coat, which he had removed when they were walking earlier, “You said you were cold. This is a simple alternative. I’m not all that cold, so would you like to use it?” John though for a moment, before reaching out to grab it, “You sure about that mate?” Sherlock nodded, and John swung the coat on. Up until that moment, John hadn’t been aware of how cold he was. So the minute the coat was on, he practically snuggled into it, turning up the collar to protect himself from the wind, and making sure it didn’t drag on the ground. By the time they got home, John had pretty much managed to stay warm. When they opened the door, they found Mrs. Hudson worried out of her mind, not being able to get ahold of them,

As she helped them up the stairs and into the living room, Sherlock didn’t say a word, just walked quietly. But when they got inside, Sherlock barely managed to make it to the couch before collapsing. John immediately forgot about everything else, rushing over and checking his pulse. But when he touched Sherlock’s wrist, he could tell immediately what was wrong. And as realization washed over him, he turned to Mrs. Hudson, opening his mouth to give his verdict, “Hypothermia,” Gasping loudly, Mrs Hudson put a hand over her heart, and started speaking quickly, “Oh dear! How could that happen. Where has his coat gone? He never takes that thing off!” Her gaze landed on John, who was still wrapped up, and she seemed to understand what had happened. Before John could start talking, she interrupted him, “Now don’t go on blaming yourself dear. If he had kept the jacket for himself, I’m sure it would just be you on that couch,” But John knew that wasn’t exactly true. Sherlock had already been soaked far more than John, and was already weaker from hand-to-hand combat. Chances were that if Sherlock had kept his jacket, they would both be okay, just very uncomfortable. John should have known that, he should’ve realized what was happening. But instead, John had complained about the cold and yelled at Sherlock, who had given up his coat for him. And now look where that left them.

A wave of guilt swept over him, despite Mrs Hudson’s request that he not blame himself. Physically shaking his head, John attempted to get rid of the feelings and doubts, knowing there was a more pressing issue than his guilt. For now, he was a doctor, a professional, not a friend. He turned to Mrs Hudson, who was watching them nervously, “Mrs Hudson. Go make some tea, quickly,” She nodded solemnly, and trotted into the kitchen to boil the water, proud to have her own Mrsion. John returned his attention to Sherlock, who was still passed out of the couch. John had dealt with hypothermia patients before, and he knew what he had to do. All the same, he paused for a moment before reminding himself that for the time being, he was simply a doctor. John took a breath, before gently removing Sherlock’s wet clothes. He knew it was dangerous to leave them on, because if he wanted to return Sherlock to his normal temperature, wet clothes would only get in the way. After that was done, John was quick to start layering blankets on, figuring that made more sense to use, instead of the skin-on-skin contact method. He was afraid Mrs Hudson would pass out if she walked in on that. So instead, John finished piling blankets, and just sat next to the freezing detective, knowing there was nothing he could do but wait. When he started to stir, Mrs Hudson came in with the tea, and the two of them slowly got him to take a couple sips, even though he didn’t say a word. John stayed next to him, watching intently as the color started to return to Sherlock’s face.

Sherlock didn’t speak, just slowly recovered his strength, until he sat up, ruffling his hair, and unconsciously curling into the blankets. John just stared at him, until Sherlock couldn’t take it anymore, “What’s wrong John?” John there his arms into the air, “You’re a bloody idiot, that’s what’s wrong!” Sherlock gestured at him to continue, and John was more than happy to do so, “I cannot believe you were catching hypothermia, and didn’t even notice, let alone say anything.” Sherlock met his eyes, “An interesting theory John, but it seems you’ve failed to consider the other option,” John crossed his arms, and sat in his own armchair, “Which is what?” Sherlock pulled another blanket on him, “That perhaps I did know.” 

John narrowed his eyes, “Then why would you give me your jacket? That would’ve kept you warm enough until we got home,” Sherlock broke eye contact. Just for a moment, but John noticed as Sherlock rethought his words, “One of us was bound to get sick. Better me than you.” John raised an eyebrow, arms till crossed, “Why?” Sherlock started to respond, “I need you-” before stopping almost imperceptibly. When he spoke again, his voice was laced with disappointment, and John could tell something was off. “I needed to test something. An experiment.” John sounded exasperated, “An experiment? You could’ve died Sherlock!” John glared, but Sherlock just shook his head, “Quite unlikely, as I had a doctor with me. Quite a good one,” John’s glare faded, and he couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. Sherlock couldn’t help but join him, and within minutes they were giggling uncontrollably, smiling as Mrs Hudson started to put some food together.


End file.
